


Apple Trees

by InkSplatterM



Category: Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War
Genre: Character Study, Fatherhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 17:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19772734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkSplatterM/pseuds/InkSplatterM
Summary: Originally published in Invincible Zine's "Know Your Enemy" digital fanzine.The apple doesn't fall far from the tree: a short contemplation on Arvis of Velthomer, his father, and his children.





	Apple Trees

‘Like father like son,’ the king’s court whispered. ‘The apple never falls far from the tree.’

Those words were like curses to Arvis. Like anvils that had been shackled to his neck. He was nothing like Victor, and he had spent most of his life trying to prove it. 

Except…

Except he never quite could. Not to himself. 

Victor of Velthomer had multiple mistresses and paraded his conquests and their children before Arvis’ mother like hunting trophies. Here a daughter by one of the Rot Ritter. Here a son by a prostitute. Here another son by the maid. It was sickening, even to Arvis’ childhood mind. What sort of person would make another so sad on purpose? Especially the person that you were supposed to love above all others. It looked like a punishment. 

It was why he didn’t cry at his father’s funeral. 

Arvis was seven years old when his father committed suicide and his mother ran away. None of the mistresses had come to the funeral, content to stay in Velthomer Castle as the priests did the final rites for the one mourner who did attend. 

Not that Arvis was there to mourn. Victor of Velthomer didn’t deserve mourning from anyone. Arvis was there to vow that he wouldn’t turn into the same sort of slimy bastard that his father was. 

And yet, Arvis had Aida, and they had a son he refused to acknowledge. 

Infatuation. That was all it was. Aida understood, even though their son might never know the truth but by the brand of holy blood that appeared on his skin, over his heart. 

Like father, like son. Arvis had not acknowledged Saias as his son, let alone as an heir. The boy grew into a man with political power of his own, with protection of his own, and did not acknowledge his father. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. 

How strange to consider that perhaps the most successful thing in Arvis’ life was the one that he had very little to do with. 

When looking at his other son, Julius, perhaps that was where Arvis went wrong. He thought that he had the Cult of Loptous under control, had thought that he was at the height of his power and success. He was Emperor, equal and opposite to his beloved Empress, Deirdre. His political reforms worked, bringing joy and safety to the common people. 

“Like father, like son,” he wanted his court to whisper. Turn the curse into a blessing for his younger son. “The apple never falls far from the tree.”

It was all a paper mache scaffold that hid a building that had burned out from the inside long ago. 

His dearest wife, Deirdre, was dead. His daughter, Julia, was missing. His son, Julius… His son, Julius, was turned into a monster. 

It started with little things, after touching that damned cursed book. Birds with their feathers melted off, stable cats found dead and petrified. Reminders that his son - bright, shy, and sickly - had been consumed by the dark dragon Loptous; that Arvis had been played like a well-tuned fiddle, and there was nothing that he could do about it. So he did nothing. 

It took only a year to fully kill what Arvis had spent decades building. His reforms were still in place, but did that matter when every citizen from the lowest serf to the highest lord feared that they would be the next one to sate the never-ending hunger and bloodlust of the imperial prince? Did that matter when soldiers were instructed to abduct children to be human sacrifices to the dark dragon that had taken residence under the imperial prince’s skin?

He let it happen under his nose, and he could not act when it was done out in the open. 

All his planning had come for naught. His schemes and agendas fruitless, because he could not see the sickness that had taken root right next to him. 

Any plan he could make now would have been nipped in the bud by the Loptous Cult’s agents that were around every corner and lived in every shadow. No one was safe. Not even the Emperor-regent. 

Fool. Blasphemous, arrogant fool. 

Just like his own father. 

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Arvis’ part in the Last Holy War ended on the blade Tyrfing. It was the only time that an enemy had embraced him. 

Like mother, like son, Arvis thought. Seliph’s eyes were so much like his mother, Deirdre’s eyes, filled with compassion, even for someone like him. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.


End file.
